Forces of Attraction
by Aislinn Cailin
Summary: Motoki makes a bet that Mamoru won't be able to stay away from Usagi for a week. Mamoru, obviously, accepts the challenge. It should be a relatively easy task ... right?
1. Part 1

**Forces of Attraction**

_By Aislinn Cailin_

**AN:** Not surprisingly, this came to me while I was studying for my Physics Magnetism Test. The entire fic is actually _finished_ – I swore I'd finish it before posting it because I am _notorious_ for starting new things and not finishing them – but it's too long to post as a huge one shot, and the ending needs some pretty heavy revision anyway. Part 2 should be out in about one to two weeks.

Please review! I'd love to know what you'd think. Criticism is very much appreciated.

* * *

**Part One**

Motoki clucked his tongue and sighed at his friend. The arcade wouldn't function properly without a daily row between Usagi and her despised Baka. Sometimes, Motoki secretly thought that the _real_ reason so many people crowded around after school was to watch one of their battle of the wits – or in this case, milkshake cups, since Usagi's had gone flying across in a great swooping arc, and missed its target by a few centimeters.

Fortunately for Motoki, the milkshake glass was both plastic and nearly empty, so minimal cleaning was required before he could return to his original task of admonishing his friend.

"Why do you always take her side?" Mamoru asked, irritated.

Motoki smirked. "Because _you _never furiously storm out of here."

"So? How does that justify anything?"

"She's just a kid, Mamoru," Motoki said, replacing the now dried and spotless milkshake cup back on the shelf. "Let up on her, will ya?"

"Just because she _acts_ like a kid doesn't mean she _is_ a kid," Mamoru countered. "She should be old enough to control her temper."

"And_you_ should be old enough to know better than annoy her. Why don't you just leave her alone?"

Mamoru shrugged and finally cracked open his Physics textbook. "I don't say anything to her, she starts everything with her ridiculous comments. Dipoles are all random …"

"What?"

Mamoru looked up. "What?"

"You said something about her dipoles."

"Oh, no, that's the textbook. Magnetism."

"I see." Motoki took the cue and went to take care of other customers. He was still a bit irritated at Mamoru, and unnerved by his ability to open a book and focus as if nothing else was important in his life. No doubt that Usagi was probably at home crying right now. _She_ would be too exhausted to focus on her homework for the rest of the night.

He disagreed with Mamoru on a large part. He really didn't understand_why_ Mamoru couldn't leave Usagi alone. Sure, Usagi did her part to provoke Mamoru, but those were usually unintentional comments. She didn't test his patience nearly as often as he did hers. It was almost as if there was some force of attraction keeping them together, so that they _had_ to interact on a daily basis.

Amused, he shared this theory with Mamoru.

"I seriously think you guys have some weird attraction force making sure you always interact."

Mamoru raised his head. "Who? Usagi and I?"

"See, you _can_ pronounce her name! Now, why do you call her Odango?"

Mamoru ignored that last comment. "Motoki, I'm sure hate doesn't_attract_ two people together."

"Hate is a strong word."

"Fine,_strong dislike._"

Motoki grinned. "I disagree. I think you guys are polar opposites who can't help but be attracted to each other."

"What are you talking about?" Mamoru said. A vein throbbed in his right temple.

"It's like …" Motoki glanced down at Mamoru's textbook "… like magnets! You guys have an electromagnetic force of attraction going on between you two, and since you guys are opposites, you are naturally attracted to each other. You're North, because you provide the insult or comment that travels along the field lines, and she's South, because she receives them."

Mamoru almost gawked at him. "Motoki, that is, without a doubt, _the_ single most ridiculous thing I have heard all my life."

Motoki laughed. "Call it what you want, but it's true."

"It is not!" Mamoru said hotly. "If we have any force of attraction, it is _strong repulsion._"

Motoki thought about this for a minute. "Well … considering that opposites attract, and likes repel … are you implying that you are very _alike_ to Usagi? That you talk, think, and act like her?"

Mamoru was silent, glaring at him.

"See, I have a point!"

Mamoru rolled his eyes. "Okay, what do I have to do to make you believe that I am _not_ attracted to her? Stay away from her for a day?"

"You wish!" Motoki snorted. "That's _too easy._ I dare you to stay away from her for a week. Seven days. Today … which is a Tuesday?"

"Wednesday."

"Fine, starting tomorrow, on Thursday, until …" he counted on his fingers. "… until next Wednesday night."

Mamoru was about to protest and say that was too long, but he stopped himself. What was he _doing_? Staying away from Odango Atama would be heaven on Earth.

"Fine. And my reward?"

"Your reward? The satisfaction of knowing that you can stay away from her?"

"I don't think so. It takes effort not to insult her, so I deserve a reward."

"Fine. I'll buy your next two textbooks."

Mamoru considered. "Deal."

He reached out a hand to shake on it but his friend stopped him. "We haven't gone over the guidelines yet." With a flourish, he took out a pad and paper from his apron and set it down on the table.

Mamoru waited. "And they are …?"

"By_staying away from her,_ you can't come into contact with her. You can't even _talk_ to her —"

"What if she starts talking to me?" Mamoru interjected.

Motoki started scribbling all this information in neat, printed letters on the page. "Then you ignore her. You cannot respond to her. You cannot give her the impression that you know she exists."

"Well, what if she says something _really stupid_?"

Motoki glanced up from his page and smirked. "I think you're using all of this as an excuse to get some way to talk to Usagi."

Mamoru almost blanched. "Kami-sama, no. She is, what, twelve?"

Motoki was amused. "Fourteen." He wrote something else on the page. "You can't touch her, hit her, bang into her …"

"And if she bangs into me?"

"Take a different route to school. Stay well away from her. She is not naturally violent – "

"I'd like to argue _that_," Mamoru muttered.

"- so if you don't provoke her, she won't throw or hit you."

Mamoru watched as Motoki ripped out the sheet he was writing everything in, and transferred all the information on there to a separate sheet on the same pad. Mamoru read the 'rules' while Motoki copied them.

"So that's basically it? For real? I can't talk to her or touch her for a measly week and you'll buy two textbooks. You know they're not too cheap, right?"

Motoki shrugged. "Sure. _If _you stay away from her. And if you lose …"

Mamoru held his breath. When Motoki didn't continue, he sighed, and asked, "… and if I lose?"

Motoki tapped the pen against his chin and tilted his head upwards, thoughtfully. He murmured something to himself over and over again, and then suddenly had a wicked gleam in his eyes.

"If you lose …" he said slowly, "… you have to admit to Usagi that you are _naturally attracted_ to her. You have to say _those exact words._"

Mamoru almost laughed. Almost. "Sure. Except, I'm not, so I won't."

"Fine, but if you do, you have to say, _Usagi _– and it has to be 'Usagi', not 'Odango' or any variation of that. You have to say, _Usagi I am naturally attracted to you._ Okay?"

"Sure," Mamoru agreed. He watched Motoki copy down these final requirements onto both sheets of paper, and then draw two lines. Motoki signed one line on each paper with his name, and then shoved the papers and pen at Mamoru. Mamoru quickly scanned them over – it was exactly what Motoki said, no strings or unexpected rules attached – and then signed it too.

Motoki pocketed one of the papers and left it on the desk. "We both get a copy. For security purposes. So, shake on it and be done?"

Mamoru nodded. They shook on it, and it was done.

Or rather, it began.

* * *

**Day One**

If Motoki's speech had established nothing else, it had an unfortunate byproduct in Mamoru: he could no longer study magnetism without cringing. Whenever he thought of North and South poles, he thought of Motoki's ridiculous argument. Granted, Usagi and Mamoru _were_ polar opposites, but an attraction was highly unlikely. Whoever said opposites attract in relationships was an idiot.

He actually did take a longer way to school that morning, and it was refreshing. Somehow, he was always paranoid that Odango would come and bump into him _just_ for the sake of making him lose his bet, but she never did. In fact, he couldn't glimpse any blonde pig tails no matter how hard he tried. Not that he was _trying_, of course.

He got to the arcade an hour and a half hour earlier than Usagi, as usual, and ordered his afternoon coffee. This would be the hard part: trying to keep a hold of his tongue, and not make any sarcastic jokes, or retorts. He sat on the stool at the far end of the arcade, doing his homework on the counter. If he knew anything about Usagi, she would sit right dab in the center, so as to attract Motoki's attention. It annoyed Mamoru a little that Motoki could put up with her over-the-top flirtatiousness and still find her incredibly charming. Sometimes, he questioned if Motoki too had a functioning brain.

Usagi came in at exactly four fifteen, well past the time of the other junior high students. Usagi, of course, got detention, so she had to stay an extra hour late. By that time she entered, a couple of students already filled the seats between Mamoru and Usagi's center position. He tried to focus on his Chemistry coursework, but he saw Usagi sigh happily when Motoki came over to them.

"So, how was your day Usagi-chan?" Motoki asked, whipping up a milkshake while still keeping pleasant small talk.

Usagi sighed happily once more. "Terrific! I got detention again, but that's nothing new. But, oh, Motoki-onii-san! I didn't bump into the baka _once._ Isn't that fantastic?"

"Really?" Motoki murmured, looking towards Mamoru. "Yeah, that does sound pretty fantastic …"

Mamoru smirked at him, and then went back to studying. Usagi followed Motoki's gaze. She furrowed her brows. "Why is he sitting all the way over there?"

Motoki glanced back at Usagi and shrugged, fighting to hide a grin. "I don't know. You can go ask him, though, if you want to."

Usagi grimaced. "No thanks!" she said, putting two hands out in front of her face as if to shield herself. "I would rather _not_ spoil my day by having anything to do with him."

Motoki stepped out from behind the counter and went to serve other booths. Usagi looked around, bored, trying to find something to do.

It was definitely an odd day. Usually, the arcade was Usagi's main source of entertainment, yet today was especially dull. She could not, for the life of her, pinpoint why. She considered playing one of the games, but the machines were already full, save the cracked one near the back that apparently ate all your change.

She twirled her straw in her empty milkshake glass and sighed, wondering what everyone else might be up to. Ami had cram school, she knew that, and Rei was busy with priestess duty. Where were Mako-chan and Minako-chan? They hadn't formed plans without her, had they? Maybe she could ask Motoki to see if they had come in.

"Hey Motoki," Usagi began when he came back to the counter, but Motoki interrupted her.

"Sorry, Usagi-chan," he said apologetically. "There was some big problem with an order near the back, I need to take care of that before I can talk to you."

Usagi was slightly annoyed by this piece of news. Did nobody have time to do anything with her today?

She swiftly glanced at Mamoru, who was still sitting at the far end of the arcade, intensely focused on his work. Work, work, work. Did he have nothing better to do? Maybe _he_ could be her source of entertainment today. She briefly rifled through ways she could annoy him – screaming, yelling, throwing another drink at him – and then decided against it. She wanted to have at least _one_ baka-free day.

No, maybe she should just go home and sleep. She wasn't getting very much of it these days with her Senshi duty.

Usagi had hopped up off her chair and had gathered her belongings when Motoki came back.

"So, what was it you wanted to say?" Motoki asked.

Usagi waved a hand. "It's nothing. I wanted to know where Mako-chan and Minako-chan were, but I'm going home anyway, so it doesn't matter."

"Already?" Motoki said, a bit surprised. He glanced at the clock. "It's only five. You usually stay here until closing time."

She shrugged, adjusting the weight of her bag on her shoulders. "I guess I'm really tired today." _Or really bored._ But she didn't say the last part aloud, for fear of hurting Motoki's feelings. "Bye, Motoki-chan!" She glanced once more at Mamoru before leaving.

Motoki watched her for a second, frowning, and then went to talk to Mamoru.

Mamoru didn't even look at up him when Motoki got there. "What are the energy levels for phosphorous?"

Motoki blinked. "What?"

"Never mind," Mamoru said, exasperated. He dug out his periodic table from his backpack, and then stared up at Motoki accusingly. "Clearly,_you_ haven't been doing any of your homework."

Motoki laughed nervously. "Sorry, man. I've been really busy."

"Right," Mamoru muttered under his breath. With Mamoru's own studies and his Tuxedo Kamen duties, he found it a bit hard to imagine that _Motoki_ was 'really busy'. He couldn't say any of this aloud, for obvious reasons.

"Anyway," Motoki said, trying to change the subject, "So." He leaned down on the counter with his elbows and grinned. "Did you notice that Usagi left the arcade about two hours earlier today because you didn't talk to her?"

"Oh?" Mamoru said, trying to sound disinterested. "I really hadn't noticed." Which was an outright lie, of course. Because of that stupid bet, he was suddenly very conscious to Usagi's actions. He hadn't noticed that she left _earlier_, but he had definitely noticed she had just left.

"Well, she did," Motoki said matter-of-factly. "If you talked to her, you guys would've fought, and she would've either stormed out, or stayed until later. See, you _do_ have an influence on her life."

Mamoru was slightly annoyed, slightly amused. "Motoki, I highly doubt that Usagi left earlier because of _me._ She … probably has other things to do."

"Like what?" Motoki challenged. "You're always accusing her of never doing anything."

Mamoru grinned. "Okay, maybe she went home to sleep."

Motoki considered this. "Well, she _did_ say she was really tired."

"See? There you go."

It was actually a very good day for Mamoru. He left at closing time, but he found he got a _lot_ more work done – almost double the amount he got done when he talked to Usagi. In fact, he felt so relaxed that day that the entire challenge of avoiding Usagi seemed almost ridiculously easy.

* * *

**Day Two**

It was a good day and a bad day, for various reasons. It was a good day, because after finishing his work last night, Mamoru actually got_eight hours of sleep._ That had been near impossible for the last few months, especially since his first run in with Usagi, and since undertaking the role of Tuxedo Kamen (which, he just noticed now, oddly happened on the same day). It was a bad day, though, because he was going to go insane from the amount of work.

Mamoru found this to be a startling revelation. Generally, he had no problem coping with work. He _loved_ taking things on, loved throwing himself into projects, loved the satisfaction of a job well done. He found it peculiar, and a little bit disturbing, that he was exhausted from spending so much energy on work. He was never one to relax much. He racked his brains, trying to think of the last time he watched TV, or went on the Internet. It had nearly been a month ago, so he couldn't imagine _why_ he was feeling so worn down that day.

He got to the arcade a bit late that day, taking his time walking. He was not particularly eager to sit down and work for another entire day, and the thought that he _wasn't_ happy about it annoyed him so much that he had to keep himself from stomping furiously down the street. _I like work,_ he told himself repeatedly. _Work is good. I like the rigorous study methods I use in school, I like the competition, and I like striving for perfection._ But no matter what mentality he tried to have, he couldn't make himself look forward to it.

"Coffee?" Motoki asked when he came in the arcade. Once again, Mamoru sat at the far end.

Mamoru shook his head. "Uh … milkshake, I think."

Motoki was surprised. "Since when do _you_ drink milkshakes?"

"I don't know. I just had this craving for one today."

Motoki eyed him with a curious expression while preparing the milkshake. Mamoru was unnerved.

"What?" he asked.

Motoki shook his head and then grinned. "I think _I _know why you want a milkshake today …"

Mamoru raised his eyebrows. "You do?" he asked, sipping it gingerly. The cold was a soothing change from the day's heat. He couldn't remember why he preferred coffee most days.

Motoki nodded. "I think it's because you're avoiding Usagi."

On cue, Usagi entered the arcade. Both Motoki and Mamoru glanced up at the clock in unison – she was an hour earlier than her usual time. She must not have had a detention, Mamoru thought, slightly amazed. He hadn't thought that he would live to see the day.

Too bad he couldn't express any of this to her.

Usagi glanced at both of them, and then sniffed haughtily before taking her usual center seat.

"I want a milkshake because I am avoiding Usagi?" Mamoru repeated, turning back to Motoki's earlier comment. He kept his voice down a bit so that the object of their discussion wouldn't hear anything.

"You need a bit of her brightness in your life, so to remind yourself of it, you're drinking _her_ favourite drink."

"_What_?" Mamoru said, nearly choking on the frothy liquid. He coughed and was gasping for breath when he answered. "Motoki, you need to realize that my life does not revolve around Usagi. Actually," he corrected himself, "I am not even remotely concerned with Usagi."

Motoki shrugged. "Suit yourself."

He went over to serve Usagi, who was now glaring at them impatiently. Since she was early that day – or rather, on time with everyone else – the seats separating the two of them were empty. Mamoru could clearly hear her conversation with Motoki.

"Is the baka drinking a milkshake?"

Motoki chuckled. "I know, I was stunned too."

"Isn't he allergic to sugar or something?"

Motoki laughed outright. Mamoru's nostrils flared. _Ha-ha, how hilarious._

"Would you like to try coffee, Usagi-chan?" Motoki suggested. "You know, keep the balance so that one of you is drinking coffee and one of you is drinking milkshake."

Usagi made a face. "No thanks. I don't want to drink coffee and turn out all bitter like him."

Mamoru rolled his eyes and pushed his milkshake away in disgust. Fine then, if that was how she wanted to play it. He didn't want to consume too much sugar either, and turn out to be a ditz like her.

It was very hard to concentrate that day. For one, the more he tried to convince himself that he was enthusiastic about his work, the more unfocused he became. For another, he could have sworn that he caught Usagi staring at him sometimes, though so discreetly that he couldn't really tell if she was or not. Maybe he was just imagining it.

Kami-sama, he was going crazy! Since when had he imagined Usagi _staring_ at him?

Furious with himself, he packed up his things and decided to head home. Maybe he could get some work done today.

"Where are you going?" Motoki asked, surprised for another time that week.

"Home," he muttered. "I can't concentrate here."

Motoki stared at him. "Why? You always could before …or have you finally realized you're attracted to Usagi, and she's too big of a distraction?"

Mamoru could hear the smile in Motoki's voice and glared at him before stalking out. He did not say a word to Usagi, but he could see – no, _feel_ – her staring at him when he left. And it was _very_ distracting.

* * *

**Day Three**

Mamoru got up at five thirty that morning, refreshed and finally looking forward to finishing all his homework. He was so relieved that he had reverted back to his old mentality that, even though he wasn't feeling too tired, he decided to brew a pot of fresh coffee just for tradition's sake.

It was a Saturday, so, after going for his morning jog, he stayed home to work. It was much easier avoiding Usagi when he couldn't see her, he decided. No doubt she would be at the arcade that day, her and her entire posse of giggling girls, and that would be _beyond_ annoying. She would probably come up to him and make some rude comment about his habits, or his coffee, or his tastes. He would probably insult her back, about _her_ habits, and _her_ tastes, and _her_ milkshake.

_Or not_, he remembered, catching himself. He would be avoiding her, so she would dish it all out, and he would have to sit there and take it.

He was spending way too much time thinking about Usagi.

By noon, Mamoru had finished most of his work. He got up and stretched, checking his agenda for everything else he had to finish that weekend. There was still heavy revision to do, and he had to study for his Psychology test on Monday. He was supposed to get started on his research for the Viral Therapy assignment too.

He checked his supplies next: he was running low on computer paper, and his Chemistry notebook was nearly full.

He headed to the mall, taking the longer, winding route. It was an overcast day, the clouds converging into great hulking masses, but a cool breeze was blowing, and it was a refreshing change from his stuffy apartment.

Mamoru was not particularly fond of the mall, with its crowded atmosphere, and a large horde of girls grouped together at every corner. It was an ironic thought, because, while he hated the mall, he enjoyed spending time at the arcade, even though both had the exact same environment. _Probably because of Motoki,_he thought to himself. At least he had someone to talk to at the arcade.

Thankfully, the store he went into was blissfully empty. Only a few stray patrons like himself were shopping for items. Nobody really went to buy school supplies on a Saturday.

He went to the notebooks aisle, and almost groaned out loud when he saw Odango Atama standing there, staring intently at two notebooks, one held in each hand.

"Out of _all_ the places in the world …" he muttered angrily. "Stupid, _stupid_, cursed luck!"

Her back was turned, so she didn't see him, but he could hear her talking to herself, debating between the two books. One had a design of pink flowers on a white background. The other had a design of white flowers on a pink background.

Actually, she _wasn't_ talking to herself, he realized. She was talking to her cat.

_How_ she had managed to sneak a cat in here when the sign outside clearly said 'No pets allowed!' was something Mamoru did not want to waste time considering. Instead, he arranged his face into a stoic expression and went to stand beside her, searching for his preferred brand of notebook.

The cat meowed when he approached, and Usagi instantly stopped talking, turning to him instead.

"Oh … h-hello, Mamoru-baka," she said nervously.

He didn't want to chance talking to her, even if Motoki wasn't here to watch them. With his luck, she would probably tell Motoki that Mamoru had spoken to her, and that would ruin everything. Instead, he glanced at her briefly before turning back to his search.

She huffed angrily beside him. "Well, aren't we rude? _I_was trying to be polite for once."

He wanted to ask her how it was 'polite' to call him _baka._

"Oh, so you're giving me the silent treatment now? Is it because of the milkshake?"

He found his book and left, now going into the aisle stacked with paper. To his incredible astonishment, she followed him.

"Well,_I_ didn't know it would bother you _that_ much!" she protested. "If I did, I wouldn't have thrown it at you." She paused, and then reconsidered. "Wait, actually, I would have, but I would have felt bad about it later."

It was actually very amusing, the way she interpreted his silence. He picked up his paper and went to pay for it.

"So, which book do _you_ like better? Ami-chan says my last book is too dirty for me to do any work properly, so she suggested I buy a new one. Except I can't pick between these two! Here!" She stuck both of them under his nose. "See? Which one do you think is prettier? The pink one with white flowers, or the white one with pink flowers?"

He glanced at her again, and brushed aside the books, before making his way towards the cashier again. She glared at him angrily.

"Fine, which book are you buying?" She grabbed his out of his hands, and he froze, fearing that she had touched him. But he couldn't remember feeling any brush of her soft skin, so he relaxed slightly. Besides, what was she going to tell Motoki? _I grabbed a notebook from him and touched his hands accidentally?_ Mamoru almost snorted with disbelief. He doubted Usagi could even remember such a detail even if it _had_ occurred.

"Oh, but the cover on this one is so _plain_!" she wailed, and then sighed. "_Fine_ then. I'm sure it'll make Ami happy. Wait for me!" She ran back towards the notebooks aisle, taking his book with him.

Mamoru took his earlier comment back. It wasn't very amusing at all, he decided. It was very _aggravating._ He was itching to yell at her, or say _something_, but he bit his tongue and kept silent.

Usagi returned a couple of minutes later, and then shoved his book back at him, clutching an identical one to her chest.

"Okay, let's go!" she said, brightly.

They made their way to the counter, Mamoru desperately looking for _some_ escape route so that he didn't have to stay with her much longer. The worst possible scenario he could imagine was that she would fall, and he would have to catch her, and knowing Usagi, that scenario was entirely too possible.

The cashier smiled at both of them. Mamoru placed his things on the counter, and Usagi placed hers a bit of a distance away from his.

"Will these be together?" the cashier asked.

Mamoru shook his head, and then drew out his wallet and counted the money.

"Hey, are you coming to the arcade?" Usagi asked. "I think it's going to rain, so we better get there quickly."

Mamoru looked at her helplessly. For some reason, he felt compelled _not_ to be rude, not when she was actually being relatively nice. How was he supposed to let her know, when he wasn't allowed to respond to her? The cashier gave him an odd look when she returned his items. She, too, was probably wondering why Mamoru wasn't replying.

He smiled at the cashier, and then, feeling immensely guilty all the while, turned around and left the store.

"Where are you going?" Usagi demanded in a shrill voice. "Why are you still ignoring me?"

He didn't look back. He couldn't, no matter how much he wanted to.

That night was the first time he dreamed of Usagi.


	2. Part 2

**Forces of Attraction**

_By Aislinn Cailin_

**AN:** OH MY GOD, you guys, I'm _done!_ I do believe this is the first time where I've actually posted something in its time constraints (I said _about_ two weeks, not exactly two weeks).

A huge shout out to Ala Verity for her wonderful critique of the last chapter! Thank you _so_ much!

This installment was far more difficult to write, but I hope all of you enjoy it anyway. Once again, all reviews (especially constructive criticism) are much appreciated!

* * *

**Part Two: Day Four**

Usagi came into the arcade at nine o'clock the next morning, which was terrifyingly early for her nature. She usually woke up at noon on most Sundays. There were very few people present, but she still swept the entire place with hopeful eyes, which dulled when she found out that Mamoru wasn't there yet.

She was slightly irritated. Didn't he usually wake up at the crack of dawn and then rush over here for his usual cup of coffee, or something of the sort?

"Hello Usagi-chan," Motoki said with a friendly smile. "You're here very early."

"I know," she said tiredly, not bothering to hide a yawn. "I think I should have stayed in bed."

"Is there a special occasion?" His eyebrows furrowed. "It's not your birthday is it? I could have sworn it was in June."

The usual beam that would be present when someone remembered her birthday was replaced with a tired smile that day. "Yes it is in June. I …" She hesitated, fidgeting with her hands and then smoothed down her skirt with a sigh. "I … couldn't really sleep."

Motoki didn't think that was the entire story, but he didn't comment any further. Knowing Usagi, she would probably tell him soon enough.

Usagi sipped her drink thoughtfully, and, a few minutes later, said in the most casual voice possible, "So … did M-Mamoru come in today?"

_Ah_, Motoki thought with an inward smile. Despite her nonchalance, he could hear Usagi's voice laced with a quiet apprehension. He remained as calm as ever when he answered.

"No, I haven't seen him today, Usagi-chan. He didn't come in yesterday either."

"Oh."

She was silent for a moment, and Motoki, who was _dying_ to find out what had happened, pressured her a bit. "Why, are you planning to throw another milkshake at him or something?" he joked.

She shook her head. "No … he's … well, he's acting really weird!" she blurted out, now looking at Motoki with fevered eyes. "He's like, ignoring me or something, and I don't even know why!"

"Really? So he hasn't, say, talked to you, or bumped into you?"

"No."

"So, he's pretending that you don't exist at all?"

"Yeah, that's exactly it!" she exclaimed, slamming her hand on the counter. "Either that or he lost his voice. I ran into him yesterday at the mall, and I _tried_ to be nice and everything, and all he did was look at me and then leave. He didn't say a word."

"Wow. Bummer."

"Yeah, I don't know _which_ is worse," she wailed. "Him being the complete jerk-face he usually is, or him ignoring me. It's just that, well, not fighting is so …" Her voice trailed off. She tried to search for the right word. "… so …_weird_," she finally decided.

"Gee, that _is_ quite a dilemma, Usagi-chan," Motoki agreed.

Usagi stuck around at the arcade for a few more hours. Motoki did nothing to discourage her from staying. He, after all, wanted Usagi to pummel some dialogue, or action from Mamoru. She soon realized, though, that eleven o'clock was _far_ past Mamoru's normal time to drop by the arcade, and finally got the idea that he most likely was not coming in that day. She got up dejectedly and left.

Motoki could not keep the smile off his face that entire day.

-

He was at the park, sitting on one of the benches. He had a book with him, but it lay next to him, unopened.

He saw movement out of the corner of his eye, and turned around. Usagi and Motoki were walking towards the lake, hand in hand.

"Hey!" he yelled, running towards them. "What's the deal?"

They both turned around and sneered at him.

"Congratulations, Mamoru," Motoki said. "You won the bet. I won Odango."

"But … but that's not _fair_!" he protested.

"Of course it is," Motoki said. He drew Usagi closer towards him, and threw an arm around her shoulders. "You didn't tell her you were naturally attracted to her, so I did."

"But I am!" Mamoru burst out. "I _am_ naturally attracted to her!"

Usagi glanced up at Motoki with love and adoration. "Too late. _Motoki's_ my north pole now!" She giggled and kissed his nose.

"I think it's going to rain," she said. "We better get to the arcade quickly."

"Yes, let's go," Motoki said, taking hold of one of her hands again. "We don't want little Phosphorus hearing raindrops on his mummy."

He patted Usagi's belly, and Mamoru noticed the growing lump for the first time. He let out a scream of horror. No, that wasn't possible! She was only fourteen, she couldn't possibly be pregnant yet!

-

Mamoru woke up, breathing heavily. His entire body had broken out in a cold sweat.

He pushed aside his blankets and sat up, running a hand through his hair, which was also sticky with perspiration. _What is wrong with me?_ He couldn't tell if the dream – well, more of a nightmare, really - was worse because Usagi was with Motoki, or because Mamoru had actually _admitted_ that he was naturally attracted to her.

He obviously was _not._ But the thought of the two of them together still unnerved him.

He suddenly felt an intense dislike towards Motoki for putting him through this stupid dare, or test, or whatever it was. Maybe it all _was_ a trap. Maybe the only reason Motoki had dared Mamoru to stay away was so he could secure Usagi in his absence.

"Wait,_ what_?" he said aloud. That thought was so absurd that Mamoru groaned and smacked himself with a pillow. Motoki didn't _need_ Mamoru to stay away to 'secure Usagi'. Since when had Mamoru ever been any competition? He had never showed any interest in her whatsoever. He forced himself to remain rational.

It was too late to go back to sleep, even if he wanted to. It was almost eight in the morning, well past Mamoru's usual time to wake up.

He went for his morning jog, which was blissfully comforting. Routine was his best friend after a morning so chaotic. It was when he was passing the arcade on the way back, though, that he stopped and stared incredulously.

Inside was Usagi – who, he remembered, _never_ got up before noon on weekends – sipping her drink. Motoki, was talking to her, and he was leaning _much_ too close to her for Mamoru's taste. He felt a sudden rush of anger. The only thing he wanted to do right now was grab her lithe body into his arms and sweep her away from there.

But then, Motoki wandered away, and he saw Usagi staring at the clock, a bit depressed. She didn't have the beatific smile that all members of a new couple generally had.

Immensely relieved, Mamoru continued his jog. He really needed to get his mind off of Usagi. It was much too dangerous to let thoughts like these become habitual.

* * *

**Day Five**

She didn't know why, but the exuberant spirit had completely left her by Monday.

Actually, that was a lie. Usagi knew perfectly well why she was so _depressed_, but what she didn't understand was why she felt so _drained,_ so parched, so thirsty it hurt. She was yearning for something, but didn't know what. Or at least, she didn't want to admit to herself what she suspected.

She couldn't make herself go to school that day. It was too much work, too much effort to even try to sleep through class. Besides, it really wasn't her fault that she was skipping, because almost felt _pulled_ to walk the path that she now traveled. And Luna _had_ taught her never to resist any supernatural feelings.

Besides, she was still going to _a_ school — just not _her_ school. Would that still qualify as skipping?

Azabu High was a massive estate. Apart from the main building which was three stories high and twice the breadth of Usagi's own school, it also had smaller buildings in the courtyard. A large stone fence enclosed the entire property, but ironically enough, the two wrought iron gates at the main entrance were left wide open. There was no reason left to wonder why only the fabulously wealthy, or the highly gifted, were accepted into such a school.

With the exception of the south side of the building, which had two large fields and a colossal running track, the rest of the courtyard had enormous pine trees interspersed every few hundred yards or so. Fortunately, Mamoru's classes that morning were all at the east side of the school. Usagi didn't know_how_ she knew that. She just, well, _did._

The courtyard inside was completely devoid of any students, but Usagi was still fairly cautious as she made her way towards the eastern side of the building. She stopped directly underneath Mamoru's classroom window, the fifth from the left on the second story. Again, she didn't know how she knew that was his classroom's window. It was as if she had a sixth sense.

She clambered onto the pine tree closest to the window, and tried to hoist herself up. Usagi had never been particularly deft at tree climbing – or any sort of climbing, for that matter – but she clung onto the branches, scratching and clawing at the bark to gain some sort of leverage from the ground. Her hold slipped and she very nearly fell off a few of times, but eventually, she made it to a branch that was the same height as the second story of the school. Miraculously, the branch supported Usagi's weight, and she squirmed around, trying to arrange her body so that she faced the window.

She spotted Mamoru instantly. He was sitting in the row closest to the window, in the second seat from the front. To her great dismay, he was surrounded by a flock of girls on all sides. _She_ didn't miss the wistful glances they occasionally sent his way, _she_ didn't miss the way their desks were huddled closer to his than any to any other male student's in the classroom, even if he seemed to be ignorant to all of it, and more focused on his work.

And he talked to all of them! She watched with mounting jealously as the girl directly on his left murmured something to him, and then pointed to her textbook. He gave a small chuckle – nothing like the roaring, mocking laugh he usually sent _her_ way – and murmured something back. Her anger flared when she saw that the rest of the girls chose this opportunity to contribute a comment as well, and he replied to each of them, quite politely. He didn't utter a single insult, did not make a snide remark even _once._

It wasn't _fair._ Humiliatingly, she realized she was crying. She squeezed her eyes shut, and took deep breaths through her nose. No, she would _not_ cry over Mamoru. Even if he _was_ being more of a jerk than usual, even if it _did_ hurt to have him ignore her and she couldn't pinpoint why.

Usagi opened her eyes once more, having made up her mind to escape from this wretched school before anyone could see her. At least she would have a _shred_of dignity left then. She took one last glance at Mamoru …

Oh, but he was so _beautiful._ There was no other way to describe it. She marveled at the way he focused so intently on the white sheet of paper in front of him, his slender fingers traveling the length of the page almost artfully. His hair was neatly brushed to the side, his white shirt collar crisp and fresh under his maroon Azabu blazer. He looked sharp, intelligent, in such a _sexy_ way. Nothing at all like the ratty-tatty appearance he always had at the arcade with his ugly green jacket and tousled locks. She watched his blue eyes flickering across the sheet, nearly melting on her seat.

Without warning, he glanced up and his gaze locked onto hers. Almost simultaneously, both their eyes widened with shock and alarm. Usagi felt the blood draining from her face. She swayed dizzily on the branch out of mortification. Mamoru's eyebrows furrowed with confusion. His expression seemed to silently question what she was doing there.

"Mamoru-san?" the girl to his left asked. "What's wrong?"

Fear tingled down Usagi's spine. She had to get off the branch, and leave _now._

Mamoru was equally terrified that someone would spot Usagi, and it didn't help that Akemi-san was following his gaze, and potentially alerting Usagi's presence to everyone else in the vicinity. Already, he could see Misaki-san and Sadako-san glancing the same way.

"It … it's nothing! I was just … thinking about this question." It really wasn't much of a lie, because that _was_ why he had initially raised his head. He grabbed his textbook and stuck it out in the aisle so as many people as possible could see. "Would you have any idea how to do number five, c?" Never mind that he had never before asked any of these dimwits for help before, never mind that this would be humiliating to look back on in the near future. He needed _some_ form of distraction and that was it.

"Which one?" asked Akemi-san, her attention diverted, and almost beaming with pride. "The one with the box sliding down the —"

"Hey! There's a girl out there on a tree!"

Misaki-san was standing up and peering out the window. She then let out a cry of horror. "Oh my _God_, she fell!"

Mamoru was out of his chair and had bolted to the window before Misaki-san's message reached the other end of the classroom. He nearly broke the window trying to open it and stuck his head out. The relief at knowing Usagi hadn't hit the ground yet was short lived. She clung desperately to a branch she had managed to grab a hold of while she was falling, but the branch was too wiry to support her full weight. It was breaking off from the trunk slowly, and Usagi was still about twenty feet short of the ground. She did not cry out for help, but was struggling to squirm her way onto the trunk. A fall from that height could definitely break all of her limbs … or worse.

"Joben-sensei! Joben-sensei!" Misaki-san was shouting frantically. "The girl fell!"

Mamoru's heart was beating so forcefully in his chest that he didn't hear his teacher's order to move aside until he was forcefully pushed away from the window.

"Oh Kami-sama," the teacher breathed, taking in the sight below with the same shock that was spread over everyone else in the class – saving Mamoru, whose shock bordered on panic. "Someone at the back! Place a call to the office. _Now_!"

"I already did!" someone near the back shouted. "They said it'll take them ten minutes to get a ladder."

_Ten minutes_? Mamoru thought hysterically. _She is going to fall in ten _seconds.

He shoved past the other students furiously, his mind fully made up. To hell with Motoki's stupid dare, there was absolutely no bloody way he was going to let her fall. He would damn well tell her that he was naturally attracted to her if that meant saving her _life_.

He stepped into the hall outside the classroom and checked to make sure the coast was clear before starting his Kamen transformation. Mamoru drew out the rose from his subspace pocket, and then suddenly, gasps, and shouts, and cries of "_No!_" rang out from the classroom.

Mamoru froze in terror.

And then, the students erupted into applause.

He shoved the rose away and ran back into the classroom, trying to shove into the crowd of students near the window – a much harder feat than pushing _out._

"What's going on?" he shouted, craning his neck to get a better look. Applause had to mean a good thing, right? "What happened?"

"Man, that was _so_ crazy!" Washi-san said beside him, exuberant. "The chick like _fell off_ and then – you should've seen it! She did some weird forward flip thing, like a somersault in the air and jumped onto the trunk!"

"What? Where? So she's okay?" He shoved away one particularly scrawny student, ignoring the shouts of protest, and nasty glares. But even as he finally made his way to the window, everyone started dispersing. He saw a glimpse of blonde ponytails disappearing behind the gray stone walls, and then, Usagi was gone.

--

Motoki was nearly whistling when Mamoru came into the arcade that afternoon. His face broke out into a huge grin as soon as Mamoru entered, and completely ignored the thundering glare Mamoru shot his way.

"You'll never guess what a certain person who came in yesterday said," Motoki said in a sing-song voice.

"I'm pretty sure I'd have some idea," Mamoru said stiffly.

Motoki's grin widened. "I _love_ how I don't even have to say her name and you instantly know who I'm talking about! It shows she's been on your mind a lot."

Mamoru remained silent, waiting for the perfect moment to throttle him on Usagi's latest escapade.

Motoki put his mop aside, and leaned against the counter, his mouth still curved into a wicked smile. "She's wondering why you're ignoring her."

This was nothing new to Mamoru, so he remained silent, still waiting for an opening.

"Actually, she's quite depressed that you're ignoring her," Motoki said. He carefully studied Mamoru's reaction, a feat that did not go unnoticed by Mamoru, who tried equally as carefully to keep his face devoid of any emotion.

"She came in at nine-thirty just to look for you, you know. And that's pretty early, for Usagi."

_That_ certainly caught his attention. So that's why she was there so early! He couldn't help but feel slightly elated at that, and his surprise must have shown because that stupid, ugly grin was back on Motoki's face.

"She also went on to say that she didn't know if it was worse when you guys were fighting, or worse when you were giving her the silent treatment," Motoki continued. Oddly enough, Mamoru agreed, but he didn't say that out loud.

"So, now that you're finished telling me what she did yesterday, care to hear what she did _today_?"

Motoki's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "And what did she do today?"

"She came to Azabu."

Motoki blinked once, then twice. "She … she did?"

Mamoru smiled thinly. "Yeah, she did. And do you want to know what she did?"

It was Motoki's turn to remain silent.

"She climbed up a _tree_! And not just _any_ tree, but the tree _near my classroom_! I have no idea what in the _world_ she was doing there, but I think I have a pretty good idea."

Motoki paled considerably. "And what —"

"She nearly broke her _neck_!" Mamoru was screaming now. "She _fell off_, did you know that? And the only reason she survived was because she did some weird somersault flip thing – which, by the way, I didn't know Usagi had the dexterity to do – and latched onto the trunk or something. I couldn't see it properly, because … because I was too busy trying to pray for Tuxedo Kamen or Sailor Moon or someone to come to the rescue!"

That last part was a lie, but Mamoru obviously couldn't tell Motoki what he was doing.

He watched with satisfaction as Motoki's expression changed into one of horror. "She fell off?"

"You know what, Motoki?" Mamoru spat. "This is all _your _fault."

Motoki recovered quickly. "What?" he demanded. "How is this _my_ fault?"

"If it wasn't for you and your stupid dare —"

"I never told you to go along with the dare!" Motoki was shouting too. "_You're_ the one who agreed to it, _you're_ the one who wanted the textbooks. You could have just told her what we had agreed on and you wouldn't have had to —"

"Get real, Motoki! Did you _really_ think I was going to tell her I was naturally attracted to her? A five-year-old could have predicted which option I'd choose! If it wasn't for this stupid dare I wouldn't have ignored her and she wouldn't have climbed up to —."

"How do you know she climbed up to see _you_?" Motoki screamed furiously. "Maybe she didn't! Maybe she likes someone _else_ in your class! She can't_stand _you, remember?"

It was as if someone had simultaneously both poured cold water onto him and thrown a hundred stabbing knives straight to his chest. He was at a loss for words.

Motoki instantly realized what he had done. "I … I didn't mean it like that!" he said frantically.

Mamoru gingerly lowered himself onto the nearest stool, and then blinked a couple of times.

"I mean … Mamoru … I'm sorry man, that was _so _out of line."

"No … " he said in a low voice. "No, Motoki, you're right. You're completely right." He _was _completely right. Usagi really _couldn't_ stand the sight of how. How selfish was it, how _foolish_ was it, to assume that Usagi was at Azabu to see him?

He looked up at Motoki, who was staring at him with deeply sympathetic eyes. "I … I'm sorry."

He hated sympathy, hated the way people looked at him as if he was a lost puppy, hated seeing the pitying looks adults gave him whenever they passed him by in the orphanage. He was never one to accept sympathy, and he certainly wasn't going to start now and take it from Motoki.

Without a word, he gathered his things and left.

* * *

**Day Six**

But despite everything that had happened the previous day, he couldn't stay away from the arcade.

Last night, Mamoru had realized something. It was both a revelation – of sorts – and a decision. It would make his life much, _much_ easier.

He realized that he _was_ naturally attracted to Usagi. He had never known how much it could hurt to have her despise him, the same way he had never known how much effort it took to stay away from her. He had never _felt_ this way about someone before, and he wasn't about to let his feelings get carried away.

But that was his second decision: after this dare was done, he was going to stay away from her permanently. It would make his life much easier, to not have to deal with her, to not have to speak to her, or see her, or dream about her – for surely, the dreams must subside eventually, if he stayed away from her long enough – every night.

He_would_ win this bet, and he _would _pull through and get his textbooks. And after that, he would thank Motoki for everything he had put him through. After all, if it weren't for Motoki, Mamoru wouldn't be making such a major decision.

There would be no justice in saying that Motoki's eyes _widened_ at the sight of Mamoru entering the arcade. No, his eyeballs almost popped out of their eye sockets.

"Hello, Motoki," Mamoru said pleasantly, sitting down at his customary stool at the end of the counter.

"Mamoru!" Motoki nearly spluttered. "What are you doing here?"

"Uh … I always come here?"

"Yes, but I —"

"Listen, Motoki, about yesterday … well, no hard feelings okay? I don't hold anything against you or anything, if that's what you're thinking."

Motoki seemed both equally relieved and equally suspicious by this. "Really? You're not raging mad or anything?"

"Of course not," Mamoru said, surprised. "You told me the truth. Why would I be mad?"

"But it's _not_ the truth!" Motoki said in an exasperated tone. "Listen, she came here yesterday too and —"

Mamoru's heart started pounding. He had to put a stop to this. "Motoki, I would appreciate it if we didn't talk about this anymore. I'll complete the dare and everything … but … can we just drop it? Please?"

Motoki looked as if he wanted to argue, but then shook his head, and then nodded with a sigh, muttering something about '_sooner or later_'. He prepared Mamoru's usual drink, and then left him alone.

Mamoru took a sip of his coffee, and glanced up at the clock. He was intending to leave a few minutes before Usagi came in, and there was still an hour left until that time. He took out his Languages novel and began to read.

About halfway through his third chapter, he heard someone scrape a stool _very_ loudly beside him, and arrange themselves with a flurry of motion.

"Hello Mamoru-san," the person said in a musical voice.

He glanced up from his book, and was briefly surprised. It was that blonde-haired girl with the big red bow who hung out in Usagi's little crew. Well, this was certainly interesting. She had never made a point of talking to him before.

"Hello," he said politely. He instantly glanced near the booths, wondering if anyone else from the gang was there. He saw the blue haired girl, and the one that looked like a bully sitting there, watching him and Red-Bow intently. Of course, they instantly averted their glances the moment Mamoru looked their way. _What was going on?_ It couldn't possibly be because … no. He would _not_ let him get ahead of himself. He would absolutely not allow it.

"So," Red Bow said, trying to draw his attention back. What was her name again? Makino? Mikoto? No, Mikoto was the bully, wasn't she? "How are you?" She batted her eyelashes at him.

If there was one thing he despised more than anything in this world, it was strangers flirting with him. He returned to his book. "Fine," he said in a clipped voice. Why didn't she go flirt with Motoki or somebody? At least he was willing to put up with it.

"Gee," she said, her voice now breathless. "You must be _really_ smart since you're studying all the time." She leaned over him, so that she could get a look at the book, and her arms brushed against his shoulder. He stiffened.

She squinted at the pages. "What's the title of the book? I can't properly —"

"_Great Expectations,_" he answered coldly. "It's English. I don't expect you to know it."

She reeled back as if slapped. "Excuse me?" she demanded. "And just what is _that_ supposed to mean?"

The action startled him so much that he almost dropped the book for a minute. It was such a — such an _Usag_i thing to do. Instantly, he glanced up at the clock. _Damn it._ It was almost four fifteen!

The girl was still waiting for an answer, so he smiled at her politely. "Sure," he said, gathering his things. "You're excused." He swept past her without a second glance.

He didn't quite make it out the door in time, though, because halfway through the arcade, the bell above the front door jingled, and Usagi stepped in. Her eyes swept the arcade, and instantly locked onto his. They both froze on the spot.

He could tell the exact rise and fall of her breath, could point out every single freckle along her face, could precisely see where she had bitten her lip so hard that it bled. He suddenly felt an extreme hunger, a longing to gather her in his arms and press his lips to hers, a need to mold her into his body so that she would never leave. It must have shown on his face, because Usagi was so startled that she took a step back.

And then, suddenly, everything Motoki had said to him came rushing back. _She can't _stand_ you, remember? _And he still had the dare. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Motoki staring at him too, willing him to do something, to mess up, to speak to her, or touch her, or communicate with her in any way. His resolve hardened. No, he wouldn't lose. This was his first step in ignoring her for the rest of his life.

He turned back to Usagi and gave her the coldest glare he could muster, giving her a wide berth before as he made his way towards the doors.

--

As soon as he left, Usagi burst into tears. She didn't even think about where she was going, she just sat on the nearest solid object she could feel, dumped her belongings on the floor, and buried her head in her arms.

Thankfully, the Crown was crowded with teenagers, all who were used to having at least _one_ of their peers have an emotional break down each day, and so she didn't draw much attention. Well, other than that of the Senshi, and Motoki, of course.

"Oh, Usagi, honey, it's okay," said Mako-chan, giving her a big hug.

"It's — not — fair," she said, hiccoughing. "I don't even know what I _did_!"

"Yeah, I mean, I know he was mean to you _before_," said Minako furiously, coming to Usagi's other side, "but this is just ridiculous."

"And he talks to _you_!" she said, raising her head and glaring at Mina. "I saw you flirt with him through the window!" she accused.

Minako grinned sheepishly. "I was just testing out your theory," she protested. "I don't like him! You can have him."

"So, he doesn't have a problem with anyone except Usagi," said Ami thoughtfully, tapping her chin. She sighed and shook her head. "Well _that_ doesn't really get us anywhere, because he was always meanest to her."

"Excuse me, but he was _very_ rude to _me_!" Mina protested. "He said I couldn't read English!"

"But Mina, you _can't_ read English," Ami pointed out. "Or understand it, for that matter."

"And anyway," said Makoto with a grin, "even _I _think you came onto him a little too strong. I _told_ you he doesn't like the flirty type."

"Maybe he took up his meanness an extra level," said Mina, still patting the sniffling Usagi's back. "You know, he was polite to us and rude to Usagi. Now he's downright _cruel_ to Usagi, and rude to us. Makes sense right?"

Makoto shook her head. "I don't think it works that way Mina. People don't just suddenly become an extra notch meaner."

"Sure they do," Usagi peeped up quietly. "Rei gets an extra notch meaner to me all the time!"

On cue, the said priestess walked through the doors. She instantly walked over to them, after witnessing the strange sight of Usagi sitting on a game machine, with a crowd around her.

"What is going _on_ here?" she asked contemptuously. "Why is she —" Rei pointed at Usagi "— crying a river _now_?"

Her speech, coupled with what Usagi had said a few moments ago, was so ironic that the girls all laughed, including Usagi, who stopped sniffling long enough to let out an appreciative hiccough. The girls filled her in on what had happened.

Nobody noticed that Motoki remained silent through the whole ordeal. He couldn't help but feel an immense amount of guilt for putting Usagi through all of this. It was, after all, his idea.

And it was he who gave Mamoru the impression that Usagi couldn't stand him.

But it couldn't _completely_ be his fault, right? After all, it was Mamoru who took up the challenge, right? And he _tried_ to tell Mamoru that what he said wasn't true, didn't he? So technically, it was Mamoru who was responsible for all of this.

Right?

* * *

**Day Seven**

_Eight more hours. Eight more hours._

Now, the real problem was to keep himself from doing anything foolish. The problem was to restrain himself from taking the normal path to school just so he could see Usagi, or going to the arcade and staking out until she showed up. Because if she did show up, and he was somehow caught in her presence, he knew he would not be able to restrain himself. And that was very, very dangerous. It was one of the basic concepts of magnetism: the closer two poles were to each other, the more attracted they were.

It was _such _a bleak prospect, to have to continue this for the rest of his life. Maybe he could at least allow their normal arguments … at least that way, he got a chance to speak to her, right?

_How pathetic are you?_ his conscience jeered. _So desperate that you have to fight with someone just to have a chance to talk to them._

Not that he would ever admit any of this of course. In fact, the only reason he was continuing this stupid dare, or bet, or whatever it was, was to know that it _could_ be done, to have some sort of basis to work forward from later on. Besides, it would be nice to prove Motoki wrong. Attracted or not, Mamoru had his ego, and he couldn't afford to lose that, even if he had already lost his sanity.

So, instead of chancing a run in with Usagi that afternoon, Mamoru chose the café opposite the arcade. He glared through its tinted windows at the huge "Crown Game Center" sign across the street, and snickered at the miniscule Andrew who was constantly checking his wrist to see when Mamoru would show up.

Usagi came in at precisely four-fifteen again that day. Even from a great distance, Mamoru could tell she was miserable, but he instantly shoved out any idea that her misery could possibly be related to him. She … probably had a bad day at school. Or maybe her cat scratched her. Or maybe she ran into someone on her way here, and the person insulted them, and they got into a huge fight …

She left a few minutes later, alone, without her usual gang of girls trailing behind. Still, Mamoru would not go in.

Her gang of girls left at five thirty. Still, Mamoru would not go in.

The majority of the teenage patrons went home at six. Still, Mamoru would not go in.

In fact, he didn't go in until it was six-forty five, which was when Motoki turned off the flashing "OPEN" neon sign, and dimmed the lights. It was then that Mamoru exited the café, slipped quietly across the deserted street, and opened the door.

Motoki looked up, annoyed at whichever customer would think to come in this late. "Sorry, we're —" he stopped. "Oh. Hi Mamoru."

Mamoru smiled smugly at him and took his customary stool at the end of the counter. "Five hours and fifteen minutes."

"I can't believe you're still continuing with this," Motoki remarked.

"Why shouldn't I?" Mamoru challenged.

"Because we have pretty conclusive results already, don't you think?"

Mamoru said nothing. He just looked at Motoki balefully and then rested his head on the counter.

"Someone forgot their sunglasses," he observed.

Motoki looked up from where he was arranging glasses carefully. "Where?"

It was sitting on a stool two seats away from Mamoru. He picked it up and threw it at Motoki. "Catch."

Motoki caught it with his free hand. "Oh. Well, that's pretty small for today's count. I think we got a pair of gloves – don't ask me why someone wears_gloves_ in the summer – and a camera yesterday."

Mamoru chuckled. "Remember that time you collected _five umbrellas_, each in different colours? Wonder who _those_ belonged to."

"Hey, I think these are actually designer," Motoki said, scrutinizing the sunglasses carefully. "Unazuki might like these." He shoved them on, and gave Mamoru a wide grin.

"What do you think?"

"Terrific. You should really go into modeling next."

Motoki took the glasses off. "I think I probably bent these. They're way tiny." He placed it on the counter, and then resumed cleaning, placing a few buckets on the cart.

"I need to tidy up some stuff in the back. Take care for a bit?"

Mamoru nodded and picked up the sunglasses, toying around with them. They actually _were_ really tiny. It looked like it belonged to someone who was ten. But since when do ten year olds have designer sunglasses?

The bell jingled as the front door opened.

"Sorry Motoki-chan, I know you're closed, but I think I forgot my sunglasses in here."

Mamoru froze, the sunglasses slipping through his fingers. It clattered on to the floor far too loudly.

Usagi swallowed and entered, closing the door behind her. She didn't smile, didn't even linger her gaze on his face too long.

"Those would be mine," she said quietly, motioning to the sunglasses at his feet.

Mamoru picked it up, placed it on the counter, and gave it a gentle push. It slid briefly, covering only half of its intended distance.

He wished Motoki would hurry up and come back outside already. It was too hard to look at her, but even harder _not_ to look.

Usagi walked over to the counter and picked up the sunglasses, clutching them tightly in her little fist. Her face had gone the palest shade of white.

Mamoru tore his gaze away, and went back to studying all the ridges and cracks in the counter. He traced his hand around one specific swirl – no, actually, that was a heart.

"Well, can't I at least have an _explanation_?" she finally snapped. "If you _have_ to ignore me for the rest of your life, can you at least tell me _why_?"

He looked up at her, and swallowed. It made him lightheaded to think she actually cared … but then he was furious at himself that he cared that she cared. He glanced away from her, studying the wall instead. Maybe there would be some interesting patterns on there …

"And just what is that supposed to mean?" she demanded. She came towards him, and for a moment, he was terrified she would hit him or scream at him, but instead, she arranged herself on the neighboring stool, dropping her sunglasses on the countertop.

He could smell her perfume: sweet summertime peaches with a hint of strawberry. He gripped both his hands against the counter, his knuckles turning white. She was making this entirely too difficult. He risked one quick peek at her to find her still staring at him. Great. Now he _definitely_ couldn't look away.

She held both of her hands clasped together tightly against her skirt.

Somewhere in the distance, a clock chimed.

Seven o'clock.

_Five more hours._

"Please, Mamoru," she pleaded. "I … I really don't like it when you're ignoring me like this. I don't know _why_ but it's just – I can't –" Her voice broke off, and she looked at him helplessly, tears welling up in her eyes.

To say that Mamoru was shocked was a gross understatement.

"I – I'm sorry if you're mad because I came to your school. I just … I really …" she flushed and looked down. "I didn't embarrass you or anything did I? It's not like I _told_ anyone I was there to see you."

She really _was_ there to see him. The thought made him dizzy.

One of his hands rose by itself and went towards her. What was he _doing_? He_ couldn't_ lose now, that would ruin everything. He was _so_ close. He balled that hand into a fist and tried to draw it back.

And then, suddenly, both of her free hands shot out and latched onto his lone one.

It was as if a link had been established, a pathway for their two separate energies to combine. He couldn't believe how much he _missed_ her touch, how much he depended on their bodies to come into contact daily to keep him relatively sane.

He was dying to speak her name, to have it roll off his lips like it belonged there. Would it matter if he spoke? They had come into contact. It was all over now anyway.

"Usagi."

She looked up at his face, and any question about whether _she_ felt this strange connection too was instantly eradicated. Her expression told him that she did, and he was sure of it.

A week was far too long for them to be apart.

Neither was sure who made the move first: if it was Usagi who collided into him, or if it was Mamoru who pulled her closer, but they were both standing up, and their bodies were pressed together. She fit perfectly against him, her curves molding into every nook and cranny of his nearly abundant muscles, as if she was made for him, as if she was made to stay there forever.

It was a relief, like the sun finally breaking out after an eternity of cloudy days, like the rain finally pouring in after a lifetime of drought.

And it was _Usagi_ who raised herself on her tiptoes and gingerly pressed her lips to his.

Mamoru sat back down on the stool and pulled him into his lap so she wouldn't have to reach up anymore. Her gentle kisses were _nothing_ compared to the way that Mamoru hungrily explored her mouth. Usagi shuddered in delight.

She huddled against him once they were done, clutched onto the lapels of his shirt, too scared to let him go just yet.

And he told her those blessed words, the ones that seemed so trivial in contrast to what he would get in exchange.

"Usako?" Mamoru murmured softly, nuzzling his nose against her hair.

"Mm?"

"I'm naturally attracted to you."

* * *

**Day Eighteen**

Usagi glared at him from the other end of the counter. Mamoru squirmed in his seat, looked away, and then looked back at her again.

"How long are you going to keep this up for?" he asked. "Please, Usa, can't you just forgive and forget?"

Her glare turned colder.

-

When Motoki came back out, he had nearly had a heart attack at the sight before him: Usagi cradled gently in Mamoru's lap, her head resting against his chest.

Then, of course, he broke out into a million dollar smile, and ridiculed Mamoru about losing the bet. It was at this point that Usagi had raised her head, and asked Motoki with a sleepy smile, "What bet?"

Of course, when she found out, she had been _furious._

"You jerk!" she screamed so shrilly that Mamoru was sure his eardrums had burst. "You … you pretended to ignore me because of a stupid _bet_?! What the hell is _wrong_ with you? I lost two nights' sleep because of this. I nearly fell off a_ tree_ and _died_ for you!"

She had jumped up and kicked both of his shins (quite painfully) and ran out of the arcade. It took the limping Mamoru quite a bit of time before he found her, sitting near the window of some chocolate shop, wiping away furious tears.

It had taken quite a bit more hugs, and kisses, and oaths of undying affection before she spoke to him without screaming.

And even then, she had sworn revenge.

-

Except Usagi was _much_ better at ignoring Mamoru than he was, mostly because as soon as the arcade closed, he would walk her home (or at least, a block away from home, where her father couldn't shoot him), kiss her very softly, and tell her he loved her.

And even if Mamoru lost his reward of two textbooks, lost his dignity, _and_ lost any hope of ever denying Motoki's magnetism theory, the important thing was that he got to spent quite a fair share of time with her before Queen Beryl kidnapped him and brainwashed him into working for the Dark Kingdom.

But even then, Mamoru always had a slight memory of bets somewhere deep in his mind, and he won a bet with Kunzite where the general had to cut off all his hair.

But that is an entirely different story, of course.

FIN.


End file.
